A Great and Terrible Beauty
by Princess.Jack.N.Anamaria
Summary: It's true. A great beauty is terribly dangerous. Note: THIS IS SOMEWHAT FLUFF AND RATED T FOR A REASON! Mature minds only, please, I don't plan on getting my account deleted just because YOU decided to be daring! Pairing: KartikGemma NOW COMPLETE!
1. A Great Beauty is Terribly Dangerous

_**A Great and Terrible Beauty**_

**Summary:** It's true. A great beauty is _terribly_ dangerous.

**--- --- ---**

"Where is he? Where is he? Where is he?" I fiddle nervously with my white gloves. Unconsciously, I roughly tear my gloves from my fingers, exposing my bone thin fingers to the frigid cold air as I wait for my guardian outside the front door of Spence Academy. The gloves are once again hugging about my fingers and hands, only to be yanked off a breath later.

He's late.

"Gemma! Oh, Gemma, _there _you are!" The distant call of Felicity's delicate voice reaches my ears, grasping my full attention. And, there she was, with Ann struggling to keep up with the bright blond's brisk steps. She probably would not be so tempted to run and keep up, if she would simply put down that ridiculous yarn ball she's been fiddling with since early this morn.

I smile slightly, "Yes, I've just been looking for the two of you as well." I lie.

Felicity looks as though she doesn't believe me, in which case I am not surprised. It never seizes to amaze me how she detect things so keenly. It is almost as though she has a sixth sense! Her crystalized eyes narrow to mere paper cut slits and begins to purse those pink cotton-filled lips of hers, "I'm sure. Oh!" Her eyes widen to become the size of perfectly shaped snowball and she breaks into, what I call, 'the world's largest grin', "You won't believe- Oh, Ann, if you do not put that blasted yarn ball down, I will be forced to toss it to the lake!"

Ann swallows hard, knowing full well that Felicity never throws around empty threats. She untangles her meaty fingers from the web of yarn and tucks it away in her heavy coat. I latch my fingers gently around Felicity's forearm, lightly tugging on her in order to get her attention, "Ok, she's put it away. Now, tell me what I won't believe!" I can hardly tell how excited I sound until it finally bounces back to me, but I honestly don't care.

Lately, whenever Felicity has something to tell us that we "won't believe", it's usually been something we really wouldn't, "Grandmama is coming to Spence for a visit!"

"Oh!" I truly hope the expression on my face, or the tone in my voice, does not display just how deeply disappointed I am to hear this. Don't get me wrong, though, I love Mrs. Worthington as though she were my own grandmother, it's just that I was expecting something a little more...exciting, "She is, is she?"

"Yes! I told her that we would be meeting up with her at the train station when she arrives. But, she shouldn't be in town for a few more hours, though, so, I thought we could just hang out together until then."

No! "Well," I begin slowly, "I'm kind of...waiting for someone."

"Oh, not a problem!" She waves the situation off with a flick of her wrist, and I exhale gratefully. I knew she'd understand, "She can come with us! It would be great to see a new face, for once, because, to be quite honest with you, seeing the same turned up noses can be _quite_ the bore." I could have sworn I just choked on my spit right there.

Ann must have noticed my shocked expression, because she smirks slightly and places her hand lightly on Felicity's left shoulder, "Fee, I don't think she really wants us around when her guest comes."

I mentally curse Ann for stating that so harshly. She notices my silent glare and quickly decides to turn back to her mass of tangled string while I avert my eyes back to Felicity, "Fee, I didn't mean-"

"Forget it," Her cut off is rude, as she begins to glare at me once more, but I must admit that I rightly deserve it. _Who's_ the one blowing off her friends for a guy, again? "It is obvious that you have more _important_ people to attend to, than to spend time with your closest, and might I mention your _only_, friends." Her words pierce me like daggers, but, once again, I must admit that I rightly deserve it.

My tongue is heavy, and so I make no move to respond to her comment. What was I suppose to say anyway? Felicity takes my silence in triumph and tosses me a roll of her eyes, accompanied by a cool laugh. She grabs hold to Ann's hand and they briskly make leave. Only Ann turns back around to face me, and that is only to cast me an apologetic glance and a sympathetic smile.

I sigh sadly and sink down on the cold steps, "How could I be so shallow?"

"Yes, indeed, Miss Doyle." My eyes shoot up at the sudden voice that I have been waiting to hear for the past hour.

Kartik.

He takes my hand to help me to my feet and I glower at him, "You're late."

"Terribly sorry, Miss Doyle, I'll be sure to be more prompt in the future."

I nod understandingly. There's something about him, today, that causes my anger at him to wither away like a crumpled Fall leaf. Perhaps it's that dazzling smile that seems to grip my heart every time it flashes my way, "Are you ready?"

He makes no comment about the tremble in my voice, in which I am grateful for, and nods, "I am. What about you?"

I can't help but give a hardy, 'Ha!' at this comment, "Oh please, Mr. Kartik, I was positively _born_ ready."

There goes that horrible seductive grin again! I shiver involuntarily, "Right, then. May we move onto a more warmer atmosphere? And let's not waste the day by having a put down match, hmm?"

"Fine." I head towards the front door of the building, only to be stopped short when Kartik grabs my wrist and pulls me back, "What on Earth-"

"The _front _door, Gemma? Come on, Miss Doyle, I thought you had more common sense than that." His statement is followed by a short chuckle, letting me know that he's only jesting with me.

I smile, "Fine. This way, then." My fingers tightly clutch the skirt of my white dress, and my legs pump fast as I hurriedly lead Kartik to the long vine rope that hangs from my room window. I grasp it tightly in the palm of my hand and give it a fierce tug, just to make sure it's still sturdy.

Kartik quirks an eyebrow at me, "You intend to climb that, Miss Doyle?"

I turn around to face him, "Of course. How else did you plan on us getting in, hmm? Flying perhaps?"

He laughs in amusement at my comment, but says nothing about it. Instead, he just motions for me to start climbing, and I do. Immediately after, he is following close behind me.

Grab hold. Pull high. Scoot up. That's right.' I chant this same pattern over in my head continuously as I do each step. It seems to work too, because I make it to the sill rather quickly. I could just kiss Ann for her deep interest in nature and her nagging insistence that we keep the window open at all times during the day. I clumsily scramble into the room, but Kartik glides in with the grace of a stealth cat. I can't tell if he's just use to doing these sort of things, so that's why he's so good at it, or if he's just trying to show off. If showing off is indeed the case, I'm not at all impressed. Greatly, that is.

"I see you've made quite a few alterations since my last visit." He comments, nodding towards the new pictures that deck the walls and the greenery that adorns the vanity.

"Yes, they were Ann's idea."

"Ann. Ann," he ponders aloud, "She's the isolated one, is she not?"

I nod, removing my coat and boots, "She is."

"Well, then," he nods in approval, "she has very nice taste in decor."

I'm desperate for his attention to be back on me, so I make no comment on that subject, but pull out the thing that he was here for in the first place, "I'll be sure to let her know. Shall we begin now?"

He too pulls off his coat and boots, signaling that he was ready. We take a seat on the floor, sitting Indian-style. I pull out my homemade deck of cards and pass them out, giving both of us twenty-one cards, placing down two piles of five cards in the center. The two piles are separated by two stacks that contain only one card each. From our deck of twenty-one cards each, we take five without looking and place the other sixteen face down beside us. We look at our five cards and study them like another language.

Finally, Kartik peeks over his hand to look at me, "You ready, Miss Doyle?"

I took look up from my cards and smile, "As always, Mr. Kartik."

Together, we each place one hand over either one of the two cards in the center, the decks of one. In unison, we flip them over. The card that I flipped over became a six of hearts and Kartik's card became a three of diamonds. In the flash of light, we turn back to our hands and slap down our cards. I place a seven of clubs over the six at the same time that Kartik places a two of spades over the three.

"Oh, blast you, Kartik, I was going to put a four over that three!" He laughs at my aggravation.

"Well, then, I guess you'll just have to be quicker, now won't you?"

We continue this for what seems to be a decade. He slaps down another six, so I place a five. He puts down an ace and I put down at two. Soon after, he tosses out a three, and I choose that moment to slap down my awaiting four. This game of fast hand movements and quick thinking goes on and on until, finally, I place down my final card: a nine of clubs. Triumphantly, I squeal in delight and shout the name of the game in victory, "Speed! Ha, I win!"

Kartik tosses down his last three cards in defeat, a feigned pout displayed across his features, "No fair, you distracted me."

"There's no room for sore losers and spoiled sports here, Mr. Kartik," I giggle, "only the survival of the fittest! Plus, I said nothing to you during the whole game, how could I have distracted you?"

"How could you not?"

'Is it just me, or has the room suddenly gotten smaller and stuffy?', I think with a pounding heart, "Kartik-" He silences me with the one thing I least expect, _especially_ coming from someone as independent and mysterious as Kartik, a tender lingering kiss. My palms begin to sweat so badly, until I'm afraid I've made an eighth ocean. His hand, hesitant at first, presses firmly to the back of my neck. It's like a trigger, and I begin tingling in places of my body I didn't even know I had.

His tongue asks for permission to access the inner chamber of my mouth, an access that I'm all but too willing to oblige to. 'Stop it, Gem, stop it right now!' My mind is racing, 'No, keep going. Don't let it end. Never let it end!' I'm battling myself on choosing the right thing. 'Gemma, you must stop this nonsense immediately. It isn't like a lady to open up herself to a man out of wedlock. You can't do this! No, yes you do! No, no you don't! Yes, yes you do! Stop it! Keep going! Stop it! Keep going! Oh, somebody, _anybody_, help me!'

His other arm snakes around my waist, pulling me close until I can feel his heartbeat. It's exploding out of control just as much as my own. For some reason, this gives me comfort. I'm ecstatic that he's gentlemanly enough not to do anything rash, but I'm surprised and a little disappointed that he's going so slow. My hand rises up against his broad chest, gliding up until my hands rest on his shoulders, 'Gemma, what are you doing, you foolish girl! Stop this at once!'

He moans deeply when my tongue grazes his own, pressing against it. My fingers are shaky in their haste to undo the buttons of his loose fitting shirt, and he moves from my lips to my cheek, down to my jaw, and rests on my neck. I had no idea what ecstasy felt like, but I think I may have a good concept now. My eyes flutter like butterflies until they finally shut, a content sigh signaling that I was enjoying his slow torture.

'Oh dear sweet Lord, Gemma Gem, what are you getting yourself into? You past up a chance to spend time with your friends for _this_? For the sake of losing your maidenhood? But, I deserve it, right? I don't think I've had any peace since the situation of the Order and the matter of Circe. I've yet to enjoy myself, yet to relax. I want to forget everything, for right now, and focus on the matter at hand. Kartik.'

The kisses that trail down from my neck to my collarbone feels intensely warm, and I find myself longing to keep this feeling now and forever. His fingers tug gently at the neck of my dress hesitantly. I can't help but laugh quietly at his, 'He's afraid to touch me.' I think, 'I guess I need to show him that Gemma Doyle isn't exactly the petty little fragile doll that he thinks I am.' With a light shove, I move Kartik away from me. The sudden wave of cool air on my neck is uncomfortable, and it is just a second later that I realize just how badly I want him near again, but I restrain myself and proceed to stand up.

His brows furrow into a long caterpillar across his forehead, "I've upset you. I'm sorry, Gem- Miss Doyle, I didn't-" I silence him by pressing a finger gently to his, now swollen, lips.

"Shhh, don't be sorry. I'm not cross with you, and I don't plan on lashing out at you. After this moment, no more words will be needed. No more words will need to be said." I realize just how deep those words are, and images of us tangled together beneath my sheets flash before my eyes. I feel myself moistening at the thought, 'Oh wow. I'm actually getting...excited about this. Come on, Gemma Gem, there's still time to go back," I undo my gown in a slow manner, purposely trying to torture him, 'There's still a chance for you to go meet Ann and Felicity,' The dress pools around my ankles, and I begin removing my underclothes. It's quite easy to do, until I get to my blasted corset, that is, 'I do believe that this is a sign. It is a sign clear as day that reads: Gemma, you fool, stop being ridiculous and redress yourself, less you plan on being scarred for life!' I ignore this, and, as seductive as I possibly can, I pull at the strings, unlacing the white material.

I could have sworn I just saw his eyes go completely midnight black.

'Looks like I'm not the only one who's anxious,' I sigh, relieved that the hard part was done. I've gotten the corset untied without a sign of pain or discomfort displaying across my face. I'm so proud of myself that I could grin, but I restrain myself. The corset falls, and rests in the nook of my lower arms so that it covers up all but the top hill of my breasts, resulting in a longing groan from my gypsy.

I'm killing him, and I like it.

His voice is hoarse, "Gemma, please."

"Please what?" I question in a coo, like a mother talking baby talk to her newborn.

"Stop doing that."

"Doing what?"

"Teasing me like that. It's unbearable!"

I raise an eyebrow, a smirk twitching at the corner of my lips, "Are you sure?"

His eyes skim over my exposed legs, "Yes."

"But, I'm a lady. You're suppose to be the gentleman and tell me to stop."

"Ge-mma! _Please_?"

My smirk becomes a grin, 'Don't do it! Don't do it! Don't do it!' The corset falls. I'm exposed. The secrets that have been locked up in my diary for so long are now being consumed, like air, to the one person who has served as the enemy of my past. But, I don't care.

For the first time in my life, I feel feminine. I feel noticed. I feel...beautiful. I pull out the eight pins that hold up my mass of dark hair in a messy bun atop my head. The long tendrils fall and drip down my shoulders and back, brushing against my clammy skin. I'm sweating like woman going into labor. Shaking my head furiously left and right, I let my hair fan out all over me, trying to go for the wild look.

His eyes seem to grow darker by this and he licks his lips over and over and over and over. He's longing.

I've decided to put the poor man out of his misery, so I drop to the floor, on all fours, like a cat, letting my hair fall in my face. I creep over to him slowly, moving with grace of a predatoriol cheetah ready to pounce upon her prey. Never in my life have I ever felt so alluring. The feeling is absolutely fantastic, and I long to keep this feeling for as long as possible. The Order and the realms are not on my mind. The Rakshana does not faze me a bit. Circe does not exist in my brain. Mrs. Nightwing and Spence are vague images in my head. Felicity and Ann do not register at all. And Pippa, poor Pippa, has not come to my mind once.

I'm light. I'm stressless. I'm free.

Finally, I make it to Kartik, and it looks like he is mere milliseconds from tossing me to the floor and taking me here and now. I move to his ear, whispering hotly against his skin until I'm sure that the hair on his neck is standing on end, "Thank you, Kartik."

I feel beautiful and almost as though the whole world is focused on me and me alone. Now, I wonder how long it will take for me to break him. Heaven only knows. But, after this moment, I know for a fact that Kartik will go home with a new lesson fresh on his mind:

It's true. A great beauty is _terribly_ dangerous.

**--- --- ---**

**A/N:** Please, no flames in your reviews for this! I've never attempted anything like this and I've never worked with this story. And yes, I know, it's quite a bold approach for a fourteen-year-old girl, like me, to start my first "A Great and Terrible Beauty" fic with an M rated story. I just had to get this out, though, because I wanted your opionion on it. I hope you didn't think I was too bold, though! Thanks for reading!


	2. A Special Gemma: The Beautiful Gemma

**Many thanks to all of my fans and supporters! Them being:**

_Miss Atayla_

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_politik780_

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_Vampire's Love_

_you're my star_

_Pinkfurball_

_peachpaige_

**Thank you guys so much for your opinions and criticism in chapter one. They were a lot of help and very encouraging. I hope you enjoy this same thing through Kartik's eyes! REVIEW AGAIN PLEASE!!!!!!!!**

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"Where exactly are you going, Kartik?"

I'm fighting over what to respond with. I could tell him what my actual intentions are, and risk be tormented by humiliation, or I could simply go with the ever so popular, 'My great, great, great Aunt Abigail's house. She's dreadfully ill.' But, what if I get caught? That wouldn't be too wise. But, nevertheless, I respond hesitantly with, "There is some rather important business I need to take care of."

Somewhere in the crowd of men of our troop, I hear someone boldly cry out, "Your business is our business!"

"Yeah!" The rest of the men chorus.

My eyes snap to the group of angry men that crowd around me. The Rakshana, "It's personal. Family matters, if you will." I flash my eyes to the small rectangular window. _'It's getting late,'_ I think worriedly,_ 'Lord knows she'll probably have a cow if I'm not there in the next few minutes.'_

"Whatcha keep lookin' out that window for, Kartik? Somewhere special ye need to be?"

I look back at the head leader, who is in fact glowering at me, "I'm telling you, it's just family business."

"You're lying through your filthy teeth."

I narrow my eyes a bit at this. Who is he to tell me if I'm telling the truth or not?, "I am, am I?"

"Absolutely," He circles me, towering high above my small frame, "'Cause, last time I checked, Kartik, the only family you had left was us."

"Yeah!" The rest of the men chorus once more. I swallow hard and my heart begins to leap. 'Blast!' I inwardly curse, 'The bastard is right!'

"So, apparently," He slams his heavy hand down hard on my left shoulder and whips me around to face him. Staring into his piercing gaze is enough to make me want to sink through the floor and never come back up, "you're lying to us. No, worse, you're lying to me." He growls.

I'm shaking, I know it. I have to be shaking by now, it's just not human for me not to. Nevertheless, though, I muster up whatever courage I have left and stand tall. There was no way in hell that I was going to let this man get the best of me, "W-well, who said anything about it being my 'blood' family?"

The room bursts into amused chuckles and chortles. The only person who seems to not be the least bit satisfied with my choice of words is the leader himself. Instead, he glowers harder at me, tightening his grip on my shoulder, but I hold back a painful wince as he squeezes harder, and harder, and harder. He moves in close until he's mere inches from my face and I can smell the strong scent of old-aged brandy on his tongue, "You don't amuse me, Kartik, not in the slightest."

"I don't think I was honestly _trying_ to amuse you, Brother." I'm pushing him too far. At this rate, I'll find myself sleeping with the fish and lily pads by tonight.

Almost as if on cue, everyone else erupts into a wave of "ooh"s and "aah"s, each finding their own delight in my brazen behavior towards my leader. I am expecting for his next action towards me to be a swift kiss to the face, compliments of his large hands, but what happens instead sends waves of, not only relief through my body, but fear as well: he laughs.

"You hear that, boys? I think little Tiki here is growing on up!" The men laugh with him, but I haven't a clue as to whether it's because he started it, or if it's because of that hideous nickname that he just gave me. Tiki? I cringe at the sound of the name, just as Brother looks back into my eyes, still laughing. The weird thing is, though, is that I see no humor in his eyes when he laughs, and that is never a good sign, "Go on, then, Kartik, go handle your li'l "family business". But, one thing first."

"What's that?"

He stops laughing and gazes into my eyes intently, "You would never keep anything from me that might put the Rakshana in any type of danger, would ye?"

_'Is** that **what he's so frostbitten for?'_ My eyes stay completely hard and sincere when I come to answer him, "Of course not! I would never risk such a thing."

He says nothing for quite some time, in which I assume he's planning on yelling at me again for lying. I've been doing quite a lot of that ever since Gemma crushed the runes while she was in the Realms. But, after waiting for what seemed like an eternity, he finally grins and gives me a hard slap on the back, "Then, off you go."

I'm shocked by his sudden change in attitude, but I make no move to comment about it. Might as well leave good enough alone. With a quick nod, I smile, and with a quiet, "Thank you", I dash for the door and out to the open world.

**--- --- ---**

"Ok," I mutter quietly, making my way through tall grass, towering trees, and wild shrubs, "Next time, I think I'll just stick with saying-"

"Over here!"

Peeking from behind a wild oak tree, my eyes dart about in search of the source of the voice that had cut my sentence short. Nothing catches my eye, except for a wide sea of greenery. Birds caw above and squirrels skitter below, but other than that, I see no one. 'Was I imagining that, or did-'

"Mama, this way! Hurry, before it gets away!"

"Marie Louisa Nightwing, slow down before you fall! That rabbit wants nothing to do with us anyway!" Nightwing? Wait, wasn't that Gemma's head mistress' name? Or perhaps it was Mrs. Nightingale. No, I'm quite positive that it was Nightwing. Well, if so, what in the world is she doing with a child? A _young_ child?

"But, Grandmama!" The young female child whines.

"No 'but's, Marie, I can't risk you hurting yourself. Your father would have my hide!"

"Hide? I want to hide! Can we hide, Grandmama? _Please_?"

"Marie, we've already done that today. Why not just go back to the creek for a little while?"

"But, I don't want to! I want to chase the rabbit!"

"We are not chasing the rabbit, Marie, now quickly choose something! I really must be getting back soon!"

"Why can't you go back tomorrow?"

"Because, I can't do that! Now, come along. If you don't choose something to do, I will choose for you."

The girl, Marie, places her small index on her chin, tapping it as she thinks over what she should do. Finally, it clicks, "Let's chase the rabbit!"

From behind the tree, I can't help but snicker at the look of annoyance on Mrs. Nightwing's face. She really _does _look like she wants someone to put her out of her misery. I now choose this time to make my way further down the path, careful not to be noticed by either of the two females. From behind me, I can still hear the distant shouts of "We are not chasing that blasted rabbit, Marie!" and "Come on, Grandmama!", but as I get further and further from the two of them, and closer and closer to Spence, the ranting and screaming of Mrs. Nightwing and Marie dull, just as the laughter and giggling of the Spence Academy girls begin.

There is one voice that I can make out perfectly, for it is the same loud voice that I have heard for the longest, "Gemma! Oh, Gemma, _there _you are!" It's Felicity.

"Yes," It's Gemma's quiet voice this time, and she doesn't sound too excited, "I've just been looking for the two of you as well." At last, I am out of the woods, and I make it closer to the three girls that stand in front of Spence's front of doors: a red headed bird, a slender wolf, and a saddened doe.

Gemma, Felicity, and Ann.

Felicity breaks into a wide grin, her entire face lighting up with glee, "You won't believe- Oh, Ann, if you do not put that blasted yarn ball down, I will be forced to toss it to the lake!"

Ann's eyes widen with horror and she quickly removes the yarn from around her fingers, tucking it snugly in the pocket of her heavy coat. The sight of Gemma grasping onto Felicity's arm grabs my attention, "Ok, she's put it away. Now, tell me what I won't believe!"

Felicity grins again, "Grandmama is coming to Spence for a visit!" Wow. Is this truly how the opposite sex acts? They find excitement in knowing that their elders are coming over to visit them. It isn't as though I have a problem with that, being as I too find it great that Miss Worthington's grandmother wishes to come and see her, but knowing just how much of a loud mouth that she is, I was expecting something a little more in the "gossip" direction.

"Oh!" It doesn't look as though Gemma's too pleased about hearing this news either, "She is, is she?"

"Yes! I told her that we would be meeting up with her at the train station when she arrives. But, she shouldn't be in town for a few more hours, though, so, I thought we could just hang out together until then."

"Well," Gemma drawls, "I'm kind of...waiting for someone." I can't believe her! Is she actually going to pass up the chance to meet Felicity's flesh and blood, just to spend time with me? Now, _that's_ very unlike her.

"Oh, not a problem!" Felicity flicks her wrist, as if she doesn't care. I can't believe just how understanding she is, "She can come with us! It would be great to see a new face, for once, because, to be quite honest with you, seeing the same turned up noses can be _quite_ the bore." Gemma goes pale.

Ann, however, offers a soft understanding smile and intervenes, "Fee, I don't think she really wants us around when her guest comes."

Gemma plasters a look of annoyance upon her face when she looks at Ann, but it then withers away to a look of sorrow when she looks at Miss Worthington, "Fee, I didn't mean-"

"Forget it," Felicity snaps, "It is obvious that you have more _important_ people to attend to, than to spend time with your closest, and might I mention your _only_, friends." That was pretty mean of her, but I won't say that Miss Doyle didn't exactly deserve it. She's being awfully rude to her friends.

I stand, my hands grabbing tighter and tighter to the tree, urging Gemma to say something, anything! This is really becoming quite interesting; the female race is so complex. But, alas, she makes no sound or movement, in which Miss Worthington takes into her victory and drags Miss Bradshaw away. Ann turns back to Gemma once more, but I cannot make out what expression she holds on her face.

Once both Miss Worthington and Miss Bradshaw are out of sight, I stealthily make my way over to Gemma, who, by now, has seeped down against the step, sighing and moping like a beaten puppy, "How could I be so shallow?"

"Yes, indeed, Miss Doyle," Her eyes dart up to meet mine and I lend a hand, to help her to her feet, and she takes it with a narrow of her eyes.

"You're late."

"Terribly sorry, Miss Doyle, I'll be sure to be more prompt in the future." Now was not the time to let her know how close I was, today, in being pummeled and beaten. Okay, I take that back. That was a little too harsh.

I toss her my most winning smile, in hopes that she'll let the topic go and we can move on. I am pleased when she nods at my somewhat of an apology, and she too smirks at me, "Are you ready?"

Her voice is trembling. Is she actually..._afraid_? Now, that's something you don't see everyday. But, nevertheless, I leave her own little female petty problems to herself and nod at her instead, "I am. What about you?"

She takes this moment to throw out a sharp 'Ha!' at my comment, and I suddenly feel an overpowering urge to actually beat her in this little game, "Oh please, Mr. Kartik, I was positively born ready."

_'Maybe in this type of situation, but apparently not when it comes down to dealing with Circe'. _I think bitterly, but I grin instead and reply with, "Right, then. May we move onto a more warmer atmosphere? And let's not waste the day by having a put down match, hmm?"

"Fine," She responds. I sense the challenging tone in her voice, and it only makes me even more competitive! She turns on her heel and walks toward the door. The front door. Has she completely lost her mind? What the devil is she thinking? I can't just prance in through the front door! _Hello_, Gemma, last time I checked, this was no masquerade! Honestly, does she just so badly _want _to remain unwed for the rest of her life? Quick as light, my hand lashes out and I grasp her wrist, twisting her around to face me. Her eyes widen in shock, "What on Earth-"

"The _front _door, Gemma? Come on, Miss Doyle, I thought you had more common sense than that." I laugh quietly at her own foolishness and stupidity. Only_ she _would see what's in front of her and _not_ see what will lay there later.

She smiles, "Fine. This way, then," She latches onto the skirt of her dress and runs towards the back of Spence's building. All the while, I'm wondering how exactly on Earth she can manage to move her legs so fast, without tripping over her own two feet! It must be some special gift that only women know how to handle, because I know for a fact that I could _never_ manage to do such a thing, and I never want to.

She grabs at the vine rope that hangs from her window, the same exact rope that I have occasionally used to sneak into her room, and pulls at it. Does she think that it's possible for her to be able to climb that thing, especially in such an...odd attire, "You intend to climb that, Miss Doyle?"

She twirls around and levels her eyes with mine, "Of course. How else did you plan on us getting in, hmm? Flying perhaps?" I mentally roll my eyes at her at making that sarcastic comment, but I keep the mood light by feigning an amused laugh and motioning for her to go ahead and climb. Thinking to myself, _'Well, **this** should be quite interesting.' _I follow her lead and wiggle myself up the rope, sliding into her room as easily as I've done before.

Immediately after making my presence inside, the sudden sight of pictures and plants catch my eye. Since when was she actually into decorating? Motioning to the new items, I comment to her, "I see you've made quite a few alterations since my last visit."

She turns around to see what I'm talking about, and when she notices, she nods with a faint smile, "Yes, they were Ann's idea."

Which one was she again? The rich, snobby, stuck up one, right? "Ann. Ann," I think aloud, "She's the isolated one, is she not?" I hope that I haven't gotten the two of them mixed up.

Obviously not, for Gemma nods in approval as she discards her coat and boots, "She is."

"Well, then," I begin, "she has very nice taste in decor." No, not really, but Gemma doesn't need to know that, right? Because, once again, I am trying to keep the mood light.

"I'll be sure to let her know. Shall we begin now?"

Hastily, I too remove my coats, boots, and effects as we make seat upon the hard flooring. From behind her, Gemma pulls out a stack of her homemade deck of cards, passing them out evenly to us both. I receive twenty-one, as does she, and the rest are placed appropriately in their spots in between us. I pick up five cards from my deck of twenty-one, at random, and study them.

My hand is horrible. Did she purposely give me this terrible hand? "You ready, Miss Doyle?"

A few seconds later, she peeks over the fence of cards in her hand to smile at me, "As always, Mr. Kartik."

Our hands rest on either of the two single cards in the middle, and in unison, we flip them over and slap them back down face up. Her card was a six of hearts and mine a three of diamonds. _'This is most defiantly not going to be easy.'_ I think worriedly, 'Especially since my hand consists of only an ace, two of spades, King, Queen, and another ace. My only option is to place down my two of spades, and I do, just as Gemma slams down a seven of clubs.

"Oh, blast you, Kartik, I was going to put a four over that three!" It's actually kind of funny to see her get so worked up like this. All over a game? This probably the most confusing and weirdest woman I have ever met, but I guess that's better than her being the same as every other prissy high standard I've known. It's a sense of uniqueness.

Her _own_ uniqueness.

"Well, then," I laugh, "I guess you'll just have to be quicker, now won't you?" She smiles softly at this, causing her round little cheeks to bump up and look as though they've been stuffed. She hardly smiles, at least when I'm around, and it's a little different and awkward to see this side of her. Not that I'm _complaining_, or anything.

Our match goes on for what seems like decades, but I don't want it to end. It's actually kind of nice to see a different side of Gemma, and not the usual doubtful nervous girl that I usually have the unfortunancy of meeting. At this moment, when she's not stressed or lost about anything, she seems relaxed, serene even.

I actually...somewhat like her better this way.

I'm so focused on her change in attitude, that I'm vaguely aware that we're in mid-game, "Speed! Ha, I win!" My mind snaps back to the real world at hearing her cry of victory. I look back down at my hand, and notice that I have, indeed, been a bit far too tranced in my opponent and not so much on the game.

Mentally, I curse myself for letting my head dare to wander for even a second, and throw my cards down, pouting like the sad little boy who can't go swimming in the lake with his sister yet because he's still too young, "No fair, you distracted me."

"There's no room for sore losers and spoiled sports here, Mr. Kartik," she giggles, "only the survival of the fittest! Plus, I said nothing to you during the whole game, how could I have distracted you?"

"How could you not?" Oops, that wasn't suppose to be said.

Her eyes widen and the peach skin that was once so bright dulled to a pasty pale tone. She stumbles over her words, just as much I stumble over what in the world is racing through my head and body, "Kartik-" It's too late for my mind to register what I did next at that point, but once it does, I am not only surprised, but nervous as well: I've kissed her.

Out of control, I erupt like a volcano, and everything I've been holding inside, mostly hiding it from myself, rushes out in a massive wave. My brain and my body seem to have suddenly lost the connection, because it's only a second later that my hand slowly rises to the back of her slender neck, deepening the embrace.

She trembles slightly beneath my touch, and I take this as a sign that she's not at all uncomfortable with this situation. Yes, I know it's wrong to do this and it's horribly rude to be thinking and/or touching her this way, but that isn't stopping me. It's almost as though she's the key to the lost chest of emotions that I have successfully buried deep within my soul, but she can somehow locate it without any trouble and without any need of a compass.

Should I take this further, or stop it now? Should I risk losing her trust and friendship, or satisfy the longing I've so desperately been trying to hold back for quite some time now? They both sit on a scale, both weighing the same on my heart and conscious, but the hardness in my pants are telling me the obvious choice: Go for the gold, but care for it affectionately, or else it will rust and never be of use to you ever again.

Instinctively, I caress her soft lower lip with my tongue, and she too unlocks her chest to allow me further entrance, 'So is this what has become of you, Kartik? Deserting your Brothers in their time of need, just to satisfy your pleasures with the one girl whose ancestors' once despised you?' I think harshly, my other arm wrapping around her tight middle to pull her closer,_ 'If only they could see you now. And you have the nerve to call Gemma shallow? For shame, Kartik, for pure shame.'_

I'm having the sudden urge to get this done and over with, to just do this as fast as possible and leave soon after. So, why am I being so gentle with her, and exactly why is my heart thudding like horse hooves? Her hands rise up my chest, rubbing over the most sensitive of places.

I fight a shudder.

_'Oh heavens no, Kartik, she's gone too far. You've gone too far! What ever happened to just a simple kiss, a polite "thank you for the game", and then leaving? Nowhere in the rules of "Card Playing" does it say that you must surrender your virginity once the actual card playing is through.'_ Her tongue grazes over my own, and this time I don't hold back a moan. The soft thin fingers she uses to caress are shaky in their efforts to unbutton my shirt, but I don't care. The urges are getting stronger, and I haven't a clue as to how much more of this I can take, but I restrain myself from doing anything rash. Therefore, I settle for simply stamping warm kisses along her cheek, down her jaw, and against the hollow of her neck. Her intake of breath is sharp, telling me that she enjoys this, _'Don't...do...it.'_

Like I said, the brain and body aren't exactly getting the clearest of connections, for I am now tugging at the neck of her dress. 'Say yes, say yes, say yes.' I chant in my head, which then rewards me with a quiet laugh from within her, '_What's so funny? Is it so wrong that I want to be polite?'_ My guess is that I wasn't exactly being polite, and I have pushed her away with my rude behavior, because she pulls away and stands up, as if she's willing to give me nice hard slap to the cheek.

I do deserve such a punishment.

My eyes display the most sincerest of apologies as I furrow my brows and gaze up at her towering form, "I've upset you. I'm sorry, Gem- Miss Doyle, I didn't-" My lips are throbbing from their heated activities, and her fingers are comfortingly cool against them when she silences me.

"Shhh, don't be sorry. I'm not cross with you, and I don't plan on lashing out at you. After this moment, no more words will be needed. No more words will need to be said." She whispers, suddenly sending wild fantasies through my mind, which then make me feel a bit more needy, and said neediness only seems to grow as I watch her slowly undo the soft gown that covers her body. She's doing this to me on purpose, knowing full well what she's intending to do to me, and it is most defiantly working.

_'Oh, kill me now, someone kill...me...now!'_ I'm going to be in quite a heap of trouble when I leave here, Because I know I've stayed longer than I had previously said. I don't want to leave. _'Is this the cruel punishment I get for lying, huh? Is it? If so, I swear on my mother's grave that I'll be honest from now 'till death, just please let her-' _Her dress falls, leaving her in nothing but her underclothes. The angels are singing "Hallelujah" praises in chorus as I greedily swallow up the sight the ever so beautiful Gemma Doyle. She isn't exactly perfect, no goddess of the moon and stars, but she's got a special touch that makes me yearn.

I hardly notice her trying to fumble with that stupid corset, but it's probably only because of how enchanted by the appearance of her legs, calves, thighs, and hips to notice anything else. _'What's my name again?'_ Her corset is undone by now, now exposing the curves of Gemma Doyle, not the constructed curves of Miss Gemma Doyle of Spence Academy.

I feel my eyes begin to dilate and sweat forms on my brow.

She undoes her corset all the way, and lets it fall, only to stop the show short by letting it rest in the nooks of her elbows, which only lets me see the peak hills of her breasts. 'Oh God, she's going to do it, she's going to make me beg.' Unintentionally I groan in longing, flashes of her exposed form are hopping around in my head like the same rabbit that Marie Nightwing was trying so hard to catch.

She's killing me, and she's enjoying it.

I have no choice, now, I can do nothing but bow to her whim and command like a trained puppy. My voice is hoarse the next time I open my mouth to speak, "Gemma, please." My breathing begins to labor.

"Please what?" She coos with glistening eyes. The sneaky little devil is actually finding entertainment in my weakened state.

"Stop doing that."

"Doing what?"

Don't make me do it, Gemma, you know what I want! "Teasing me like that. It's unbearable!"

She arches one eyebrow at this, an evilly slow forming smile tugs at the corners of her lucius lips, "Are you sure?" She purrs.

Once again, my eyes take in the sight of her legs, and only word describes just how badly I _do_ want her, "Yes."

"But, I'm a lady. You're suppose to be the gentleman and tell me to stop."

I look back up into her eyes, pleading this time with a childish whine, "Ge-mma! _Please_?"

Her evil smirk becomes a full grin, 'Yes, yes, Miss Doyle,' She releases the corset, and I almost choke mid gulp. She's just how I imagined her to be and more. She curves in and out like the ocean, dipping in the perfect places. After the corset is dropped, she discards the rest of her underclothes, leaving her completely nude before me.

My eyes go black.

I will be dead by the time I get back to the rest of the gypsies, but that is not at all important. The Rakshana isn't at all significant to me at the moment, neither is the fact that what I am tempted to do isn't quite considered to be "gentlemanly". Since when were "gentleman" and "Kartik" used in the same sentence together anyway? It just didn't match up.

She takes out the pins that hold up her hair, expelling the long silky tendrils that rest upon her back. She's gorgeous. Left and right, she wildly shakes her head, sending her flying about. She stops, and her new appearance leaves me throbbing, which once again make my eyes cloud over in desire.

Complete desire and longing.

My tongue licks over my lips continuously, and immediately after, Gemma's on the floor like a cat, creeping over to me with eyes that are so glazed that they seem almost completely made of water. It drives me insane, and I don't know how much more of her torture I can take before I lose it.

As she makes it closer to me, I'm forced to hold back yet another moan. Her alluring state has me at my weakest, and it makes it terribly hard for me to breathe, _'This isn't fair. Have I not suffered enough?'_ Then, she moves closer, until she's hovering beside my ear. Her hot breath makes the hairs on the base of my neck stand on end, I shiver at the feel, causing my eyes to flutter shut, "Thank you, Kartik." she whispers.

I never thought that I'd actually see the day when Gemma Doyle would reduce herself to such an intimate state, and it surprises me that she wants me to be the first to see her other half. Not the laid back Gemma, not the forceful Gemma, not the confused Gemma, and not the worried Gemma.

She's showed me the one special Gemma that no one has ever gotten to see yet: the beautiful Gemma.

**The End**

**--- --- ---**

**A/N:** So, how did I do? Did I pull Kartik's character, or was he so out of character that it makes you want to toss rotten tomatoes at me? I'm being serious, you guys, he was incredibly hard to write! I don't think I'd ever do anthing like this again. As in, I wouldn't do an "A Great and Terrible Beauty" or "Rebel Angels" story in his P.O.V, becuase his mind is so complex that it drives me insane. That's why it took me so long to get this out! I've been thinking and erasing to the point where I was just going to give up on this and just leave it as a one-shot. But, now that the hard part is done and over with, what did you think? I love you guys! Oh, btw, I'm 15 now. Yay! My b-day was January 20.


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